Ice Queen Ch 01

This is my first attempt after a refusal to try again putting fingers to keyboard. These ideas run through my head everyday.

I'd like to thank Nouh Bdee for editing this chapter.

I have read many, many stories, there are some truly amazing authors here.

I hope this goes over well, and if it's well received Ch2 will be forthcoming.

Regards

Chris

*****

Her reputation preceded her. IQ, or Ice Queen, had landed on the deck of the carrier. Nearly all the on duty personnel who could watch observed the landing. I saw her from behind at a distance of about 100 feet. I thought to myself, possibly with along all the other personnel. "What an ass perfectly rounded, and when she turned around I stopped gobsmacked and then preceded to drop the 50Cal BMG in my lap. "Fuck" I muttered "ow ow ow", getting on with the job mounting the rear gun on the Pave Low I was part of the crew on.

"Hey get your head outa your arse and sort your shit out." Yelled the crew chief. "Besides she's outta yours and my league."

Apparently she only dates her Apache, she's the best female pilot the Army has. Capt H Osbourne—the H stood for Heather, Daddy was a two star General in the Marines and she joined the Army.

We only stayed on the carrier for the trip to the Middle East training the whole way. My name is Steve Andrews: 6' tall solid not built like a greek God I just worked at being fit. Dad was a US Marine in Vietnam and was honourably discharged as a Gunnery Sergeant. Big brother was a Ranger and little sister was a Lieutenant in the USAF working in Operations so I was in the middle of a military family.

I usually spent my down time training in the gym, on the range, or in the books. I had aspirations of being a crew chief. So hitting the books for the aviation training was an advantageous getting ahead so to speak.

I'd seen the Ice Queen in the gym many times, an absolute stunner but definitely a cold fish. I watched, with interest, her unarmed combat drills with her co pilot 1st Lieutenant Jeremy Jones. Good, but I considered them sloppy. Hell dad drilled us boys from as soon as we could walk so school yard bulling was never a problem, Sis well she just kicked ass from day one as well Mom taught her and definitely you never went up against her, as the star quarterback found out when he was bullying a girl who said no to him. I think he might still speak with a permanent lisp.

JJ watched me spar against the bag one day and asked to step in. He and I danced around each other for about 45 minutes, with me giving as good as I got. We were absolutely stuffed afterwards and it seemed we had gathered quite a crowd, with a few people wanting to spar to sharpen up their skills. I was stunned when the IQ asked for training.

So I spent time sparring with JJ, first then the Ice Queen. JJ always watched and he noticed that I always pulled my punches on her. After about two weeks JJ must have given away my secrets as IQ went to town on me during one session and instead of me being defensive. I had to attack and it was full on till I had her on the deck with me standing over her.

I stood looking down at her, thinking, oh shit now I'm in for it. Most Captains don't like to be shown up, especially by a non-commissioned soldier, but she took it with grace and said now she had now learnt something useful. Her smile well, sunsets were a dime a dozen at sea but her smile eclipsed all of that.

On top of the sparing, I used the weapons range located on the port side aft deck below the flight deck. It was protected from the aircraft doing flying ops and had a really good layout. You could do static target or dynamic targeting. I preferred the dynamic as you advanced down the range engaging targets as they appeared.

My preferred weapon of choice was the M4 carbine with the 30 round mag. But because I often had to get off the chopper whilst it was getting loaded in a hot LZ, I obtained the M26 Shotgun attachment with the 5 round mag as well. Its very, very, effective in close quarters. I also carried the Baretta M9 with a 15 round mag but the backup was a .45 cal 1911A1 it could only carry 8 rounds with one in the chamber. If I had to use this it was well and truly over. The 45 was over kill and so was the M26 but between my brother the Ranger, and dad, I know how to shoot. The guys knew if I was heading aft fully kitted and spurred it was an opportunity to see the skills I had brought with me to the Squadron. I trained every other day with the weapons. I knew them like the back of my hands.

I had seen JJ and the Ice Queen do the required training to stay proficient but for me it was as fundamental as breathing. I had to be better than everyone else so we could all go home at the end of the day. My big brother Rick was on board with his team transiting towards the Persian Gulf as well. Normally the US Military don't like family members being on the same ship but we had managed to be overseen. Rick's buddies were impressed with my weapons skills and between them and Rick the competition was always fierce.

Now the CO of the Apache Squadron was Major Gerald Williams and he thought that he was all that and more. One of the types who used the enlisted as stepping stones in his career path. He took exception to a Corporal wiping the floor with him at a skill at arms practice. The fellow was lucky to hit a barn door with a blunderbuss. He especially didn't like it when the IQ witnessed me showing him up. I think he had designs on her from day one.

Me I know my place. Enlisted did not fraternise with Officers and vica versa. No don't get me wrong the Ice Queen and I talked but I always kept it professional cause it only took one slip up and we would both be in deep deep shit, and she deserved better than a lowly E4 Corporal. It was always "yes, ma-am"and "no, ma-am" when people were around. However, whilst sparring I called her Heather. The name rolled off my tongue like honey. We danced around each other for weeks en route to the Middle East. JJ would always laugh at me when he could see my discomfort when Heather tried to push me harder to spar at full force. I really didn't want to have to explain visible injuries on her person. JJ was another matter. His laughing just was a red rag to a bull and I stalked him mercilessly and he knew it. The Major was always getting in my CO's ear about how brutal I was during the sparring lessons and well the extra weapons I carried he was insistent I carry regulation side arms only. My CO just fobbed him off telling him to wind his neck in. Same rank can do that, so Williams went higher to the Admiral in command of the fleet.

Training day in day out was relentless. Then it was action time. We were 24 hours out of the Gulf of Oman commonly known as the GOO then it would be a long transit up the Straits of Hormuz. The straits were an edgy transit as the Iranians had missile sites strategically placed so they overlapped, and you went from one to another for the whole transit. Then, we came into the Persian Gulf. For us, the CSAR (Combat Search and Rescue) crews we knew we were heading ashore so getting all the shit associated with the six aircraft repacked and ready for the next phase of our deployment.

We left early as the Pave Low had a ferry range of over 900 miles with about 5 hours of flying time. It was going to be a loooong trip. Especially carrying our own stores as required. 4 hours in, we'd get a mid air refuel and keep going. We were headed for a strip near the mountains in northern Iraq as a forward operating base. Yahoo! I hope the net worked in the middle of nowhere. As we launched I was hanging out of the back of our chopper, Guardian Angel, I noticed another angel come out on the deck and wave. That was the last smile I'd see for a while.

We came in fast and low. The supporting Apache gunships were circling overhead. The rear door was down as we hit with a sickening lurch. I raced out to provide covering fire, if required, to the Soldiers being evacuated after a mission. Unfortunately there were some casualties. I felt a tap on my shoulder indicating I was the last man still out. I turned to see the others fanned out at the door and I could see the muzzle flashes. "Fuck fuck fuck" I thought as I spun around I felt someone kick me in the head with a sledge hammer. My helmet was ripped off and I was knocked off my feet. My ears were ringing like church bells going nuts and my vision was a little blurry, but I felt ok.

I crouched on one knee and took stock of the situation. I started to engage the targets in front of me steadily dropping them one by one. My training told me: fire fast and accurately but provide as small a target as possible. I heard the roar of the 30mm chain gun from the covering Apache realising that it was firing bloody close to me. So with that I started to back pedal. Retreating and engaging the enemy with the Apaches support I made it to the rear door only to be knocked off my feet again. I felt hands drag me up the ramp and inside the belly of our beast the Guardian Angel.

I could see mouths moving but the ringing in my ears was still pretty intense. I felt the Capt throw the beast into the air. Pave Lows are not subtle they beat the air into submission and we battled our way out. I had a note pushed into my hands.

'Steve you've been shot in the shoulder a through and through and it was a heavy caliber round that took your helmet off. You are one lucky SOB," it read.

I just grinned thinking that I didn't feel the shoulder hit. Maybe that's what knocked me off my feet. I had another note pushed into my hands.

'You are requested to wave to the Apache that is following us. They want to know if you're OK.'

It was then I realised that Rick was the guy that was tending my wounds as he helped me stand, put the harnesses on and opened the rear door. I looked out and saw the Apache flying very close to our tail. Not nose to tail it was being flown sideways, I had a clear view of both the Pilot and Co-pilot. Their visors flipped up and I recognised that angelic smile before I read the name tags. It had been 62 days and more than 13 hours since I'd seen it. I gave her the thumbs up and she gave me the signal 'I'm watching you'. Damn I thought I was getting over her. Now I had to start again. I turned and we closed the door as we sped back to the base.